Proud Roots
Sometimes, when I dream,
I wake up as nothing short of
A Proud African Woman.
But, I’ve always been short.
And I can’t paint my skin…
Sometimes, when I dream,
I wake up as nothing short of
A Proud African Woman.
But, I’ve always been short.
And I can’t paint my skin…
…we were all told not to speak of it.
But in the night, these memories haunt, lips sealed, we see each other different.
with their husbands names,
hidden under their teeth…
I am forced to admit, that I am quite a sporadic writer. I woke up the other morning, at three thirty, jumped out of bed and scrambled for a pen and lots of paper. I had to write about growing up, something I am suddenly very happy I’ve managed to do. Perhaps, one day, when…
I have the opportunity, once a month to ask people what they think about Kenya. It’s an anticipated pleasure. I was surprised by how much we agree on. Last night, there was a coincident of a sentiment that has been bouncing around my mind with it’s resonance. Our politicians represent us, reasonably accurately. As a…